


Unsafe Business Practices

by sparklight



Category: Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Cliffjumper's Paranoia(tm), M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22379101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/pseuds/sparklight
Summary: My own take for SG!Mirage while Cliffjumper is being his usual pleasantly paranoid self. Starscream is both thankful and frustrated.Set before Reunification.
Relationships: Cliffjumper/Mirage
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Unsafe Business Practices

"No."

"... Cliffjumper?" Starscream looked down at him, something which Cliffjumper caught more through the shift of the long leg beside him turning partially towards him, the edge of the wingpart on Starscream's arm disappearing out of the corner of his vision, and Starscream cutting out more of the light from above as he bent slightly over him. Cliffjumper's attention was mostly forward, across the glittering bar floor to where their contact was holding court.

"Do we _need_ these fragging oi---"

" _Cliffjumper_!" Starscream's scolding hiss ended in a sigh, and a large hand came down to brush fingers over his shoulder, staying just long enough to rub gently over the black arch of metal. "The noble refugees have never paid attention to the struggle they escaped until now, yes, but if we could have their support..."

At least Starscream sounded ambivalent. That was more of a relief than Cliffjumper would admit to, but he would far more readily admit to that, admit he slagging hated these gold-plated, rusty fraggers for avoiding everything, for having the choice to, for not stepping in to offer assistance until _now_ , when it was more possible the Decepticons might actually win, than he would admit to recognizing the mech lounging on the richly stuffed metalmesh... whatever the name of the furniture was. He knew it'd have a name, both in Cybertronix and several Earth languages, but slag him if he knew.

"We don't need 'em," Cliffjumper growled, and knew that was a lie. They were doing better now that the Autobots were crippled as they were after the whole Earth escapade, but any help would be useful. He would just rather _this help_ hadn't offered. Across the floor, golden optics cut over to spear him, and Cliffjumper stiffened. The half-mask obscured nothing of the pause, of the way those elegant, sharp features turned more edged as a smile bloomed up, empty and bright. And calculating. It was probably ironic that Cliffjumper could so easily see it now, that it was there to see in that familiar face, and know it'd never been present back home. Other home. _Whatever_. He kept his engine going smoothly on pure force of will, but his fans failed for a moment and flushed his body with heat instead of venting it when bright golden optics glanced over him, slow and deliberate, then shifted to Starscream with a far more businesslike air.

Silver and lavender so delicate and pale it almost shaded into sparkling gray flashed in the lights from above as Mirage - for who else could it even be? - stood up. Merely the play of light over him seemed to turn him partially transparent, without any apparent use of his ability, and that was almost as unsettling as the way Mirage practically _stalked_ over to them. Starscream turned to face him, and Cliffjumper glanced up, smothering a curse. He didn't seem to have noticed anything wrong, seemed to be looking to Mirage's approach with a pleasant, if guarded, air. Which was good in one way, as Starscream was as terrible an actor as he was, for entirely different reasons, but terrible in other ways, for if Starscream hadn't noticed anything wrong Cliffjumper had no way to tell him to be more than just _regularly_ wary before Mirage came up to them. Starscream might also think he was overreacting if he commed him, because as wary as Starscream was, he _wanted_ this offer to be genuine, fair-weather offer as it was or not.

So it was up to him to... do what? He didn't even know what it was he might need to do to keep them safe. The exiled noble was, to all appearances, no Autobot, but that didn't mean he was genuine or safe to deal with. Or that any of his kindred were. Hopefully Starscream would at least remain wary of their offer until they had some good proof it was genuine, as little as Cliffjumper felt it would be. Gritting his teeth, he straightened up as Mirage stopped in front of them, still smiling, and touched his chestplates.

"Greetings. Shall we find some seats? We're all eager to discuss our possible involvement with the Decepticon cause."

Yeah, right. Cliffjumper turned on his feet and stomped ahead in the direction Mirage had gestured, pretending like he hadn't felt delicate fingers tease the upper edge of his back kibble before he was out of reach. Frag this place. He'd thought he was used to it!


End file.
